Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1887-01-08

the winter was over, he took 60 little
nourishment beyond this hope
One Of the young men Of the village
had q new fiddle. Janko had seen il
hanging IN the back part Of the grocery
store, and his little hands fairly twitched
to get hold Of it. One evening he step
ped around back of the stove and looked
in the open window. The fiddle hung
Just where the moonlight fell upon it.
How beautiful it looked there The
store was deserted, for everybody was
enjoying the evening on the steps In
front. Janko could hear them talking
and laughing. His heart trembled.
There was the glorious violin almost
within reach. The wind seemed to
whisper through the leaves over and owe
again: "Go on, my boy, there il no one
THERE
And the far-of whip oor-will seemed
to repeat the refrain, 'Janko 20! Janko
gor' Then the owl startled him with a
long-drawn, emphatic "No-ooi No-o-op
But the owl soon relapsed into silence,
and he only heard the encouraging voice
of the katydids urging him on with the
assurance: "No one there No one
therep'
Janko struggled up to the window sill
and in another moment dropped down
into the room. He slipped along the
floor. He only wanted to touch the glo-
rious fiddle and then to 60 home to dream
of it the whole night through. Soon
there came low, soft sound from the
strings, as if hand had been laid on
them gently and Withdrawn. Just at
that moment form appeared at the
front door and a rough voice asked:
"Who's there?"
Janko held his breath.
The voice repeated in louder tones,
"Who's there" A match was struck. A
curse, some blows, and loud cries fol-
lowed, and Janko was dragged into the
group on the steps.
The next day he was dragged before q
magistrate. Janko had nothing to say,
though his poor mother was half wild
with fear, and grief and shame. The
Magistrate finally decided to release the
boy. It wouldn't do he thought to send
to prison the little fellow who did not
realize what he had done, or tried to do
He instructed the constable, however, to
give Janko good fogging. as warn
ing. The great burly man picked up
the boy, tucked him under his arm, and
carried him away to punishment.
At each blow Of the cane Janko cried:
''Motherl Motherp' But the constable
did his work thoroughly, and the cries
gradually grew weaker, and Janko nc
longer cried for his mother. Poor little
broken fiddle! The man did not have
bad heart, but, like too many, he did
not believe boy couli[ be frail and
ak.
Janko's mother carried him home and
put him in his rude bed and covered him
with an old horse blanket. The next day
Janko could not get up. The third day
Janko could not get up. The fourth day
the swallows twittered in the cherry trees
near the window, the sunshine crept into
the bare room and lighted up his tangled
hair and the little white face, in which
not single drop of blood apparently re-
NAMED.
His sunken breast scarcely rose and
fell, but his countenaqce reflected the
sounds that came in at the window, and
he smiled little as he heard party of
returning haymakers singing. Janko
listened for the last time to the sound of
the wind and the trees and the villagers.
Beside him on the old blanket lay his
rude little fiddle. Suddenly the face of
the dying child lighted up and his lips
whispered:
"Mother"
"What is it, my SOM" asked the
mother, in choking voice.
"Motherl won't the good God give me
real fiddle in heavenY'
Eyes, my child, yes!" replied the poor
mother and breaking into passion of
grief, ''Oh, Christ help meI' as she bent
over Janko.
When she raised he1 lead, and looked
at her boy, the eyes Of the little musician
were open but immovable; bis face fixed
and cold. The sunshine had disap-
peared.
Over Janko's grave the trees and grass
and birds make the old melodies he loved
to hear.
MR.. AND MRS. BOWsER.